


That Good Ol' Sound Is Ringing

by GoddammitMorrigan



Series: A Three Body Problem [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Multi, Rope Bondage, Sensation Play, Shameless Smut, let's put those basic spells to work shall we dorian, you know what they say about tevinters in bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 13:27:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5587651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoddammitMorrigan/pseuds/GoddammitMorrigan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cole asks to be bound, Dorian gets creative with rope and runes under Bull's watchful eye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Good Ol' Sound Is Ringing

**Author's Note:**

> The fourth installment of Coribull smut drabbles. Title is from "Lone Digger," by Caravan Palace.

The ropes bite an elaborate and looping pattern into Cole’s skin, pushing the taut flesh underneath into enticing shapes. The frost rune circle inscribed underneath that tapestry glows faintly blue in the candlelight. Cole sits quietly, on the ground, legs folded, arms bound behind him, ribs pushing like a tide against his restraints. Dorian has to step back a bit to admire his handiwork, the way the bruised red contrasts with the milkiness of Cole’s skin. Damn if he isn’t good at knotwork.

Bull chuckles. He’s installed on a stack of furs in the back of the room, one leg crossed over the other, a tankard of that vile Qunari swill in one hand. “You can start anytime you want. Cole, are you ready?”

Cole nods.

The rules of the game are simple. One, Dorian isn’t allowed to touch Cole at all. Two, Cole isn’t allowed to say a fucking word. There’s the watchword, of course, but Dorian’s reasonably certain Cole won’t be using it. Anyway Bull’s watching, and he’s pretty sharp with pulling people back when needed, so no worries there.

“It’s not quite the same without your babbling, to be honest,” Dorian says, “so we’re going to have to fill that space in with something else.” 

He flicks his hand and tiny fingers of frost run across Cole’s skin, radiating outward from his chest. Cole sucks in a loud breath and his muscles tense. Dorian repeats the action, and the breath turns into an exhaled noise, low and keening. With a tilt of his hand the lines of frost curl into circles, looping around sensitive spots on Cole’s neck and shoulders and spine. Around his nipples. You learn some interesting things in bed, in Tevinter. Cole moans and struggles to bite down on words.

“Don’t think,” Bull says. “Don’t say anything. Just focus on yourself, and what your body is telling you.”

Cole tilts his head backwards, his hair falling away from his deeply-shut eyes, his cheeks awash in arousal. Sound escapes his exposed throat in a shuddering sequence. Dorian teases him, tracing filthy things in ancient script over the boy’s collarbones.

It was Cole at first who asked Dorian to bind him and pleasure him, and Dorian is ashamed to admit that he probably overreacted. Bull shouldn’t have had to step in, Varric shouldn’t have had to whisk Cole out of sight, half of Skyhold probably shouldn’t have had to hear him shout at Cole about their sex life. It’s just… as an apostate you get a lot of aspersions cast your way about what necromancers do in bed, you know? So he’d just assumed… nevermind. Bull got involved, Cole’s feelings got hurt, and Dorian got guilty because it wasn’t often Cole articulated something he wanted from the relationship. 

But he can make it up to him. He can make it up to him right now.

Dorian works his magic over Cole until the boy’s back is to the floor, arched taut and coated with sweat, his head grinding against the flagstones as he pants and gasps. Dorian chases hot and cold sensations in a spiral up his erect member and smirks as Cole convulses, making a sound like he’s dying. Dorian still has his cloak and pants on, and everything feels too tight. He wants to tear it all off, he wants to be hip-deep in Cole, he wants to feel the boy bucking in pleasure under him.

He looks at Bull, pleadingly, and his lover gives an imperceptible nod. “Cole, Dorian would like to come inside you now. Would you like that? You may say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ once.”

Cole brings his breathing under control. “Yes.” Once, just once.

If Dorian knew of a way to instantly melt clothing he’d do it. Instead he sheds it, piece by piece, as he strolls up to Cole’s boneless form on the floor. Putting one hand on each of Cole’s knees he says, “The night has barely begun, my friend.”


End file.
